It would have justified a
vanity less vigorous than Susan or any other normal human
being possessed, to excite such a look as was in his eyes. He
drew a long breath by way of breaking the spell over speech.
"You are _beautiful!_" he exclaimed.
And his eyes traveled from the bewitching hat, set upon her
head coquettishly yet without audacity, to the soft crepe
dress, its round collar showing her perfect throat, its
graceful lines subtly revealing her alluring figure, to the
feet that men always admired, whatever else of beauty or charm
they might fail to realize.
"How you have grown!" he ejaculated. Then, "How did you do it?"
"By all but breaking myself."
"It's worth whatever it cost. If I had a dress suit, we'd go
to Sherry's or the Waldorf. I'm willing to go, without the
dress suit."
"No. I've got everything ready for dinner at home."
"Then, why on earth did you dress? To give me a treat?"
"Oh, I hate to go out in a dress I've never worn. And a woman
has to wear a hat a good many times before she knows how."
"What a lot of fuss you women do make about clothes."
"You seem to like it, all the same."
"Of course. But it's a trifle."
"It has got many women a good provider for life. And not
paying attention to dress or not knowing how has made most of
the old maids. Are those things trifles?"
Spenser laughed and shifted his ground without any sense of
having been pressed to do so.
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